


Fourteen Drabbles

by omphale23



Category: C6D - Fandom
Genre: Community: ds_snippets, Ficmix, Multi, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fourteen snippets, fourteen fandoms, fourteen songs from <i>The Invisible</i>. Yeah, I dunno.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fourteen Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> **slidellra** was kind enough to beta most of these. Heaven knows why.

Title: Personal History  
Fandom: The Invisible  
Rating: G  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: unsound  
Lyric: "Caterwaul," ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of The Dead

*

_Everybody's got a story._

Jack handed him this bundle, a _baby_, and looked so proud. Like this was the best thing he was ever going to do. Like he knew that his daughter was going to be everything they couldn't be.

Brian had never been good with kids. They were tiny, all fragile and breakable, and soon enough they grew into teenagers and started showing up at the station in handcuffs.

He wasn't jaded. Just cautious. No sense in getting attached to anyone until they got to be an adult. But Jack was waiting for him to say something nice.

***

Title: Last Rites  
Fandom: Hard Core Logo  
Rating: PG-13 for language  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: running away  
Lyric: "02.20 Boy," Suicide Sports Club

*

_My life is so complex._

It was pissing rain and freezing cold in Vancouver. Joe would've appreciated that. He always was big on the grand fucking gesture. Three things he loved: the music, the gesture, Billy. Maybe not in that order.

Billy hung back until after, hiding behind a couple of crypts and smoking cigarettes one after another until the pack was empty. After that he cracked open the whiskey. Took half a bottle before the last of the shiny little baby punks finally wandered off.

He poured the rest into the open grave, spit at Joe, walked away.

***

Title: Premonition  
Fandom: BSG  
Rating: G  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: conviction  
Lyric: "Taking Back Control," Sparta

*

He hadn't awakened one day and known the future.

It had always been there, the belief that there was more to the universe than others admitted. The details were new, but the outline had always been there.

He knew his conviction disturbed those whose faith wasn't as strong, knew that it kept him from certain discussions and from certain secrets.

He knew they called him fanatic, insane, obsessed, broken.

He didn't care; they would learn in the end. He burned a path, and eventually the rest would follow it. Cassandra, too, was often ignored.

He questioned everything but the truth.

***

Title: Grit  
Fandom: Paris or Somewhere  
Rating: G  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: field  
Lyric: "The Kill," 30 Seconds to Mars

*

Home wasn't enough, not nearly enough. Christy struck out, struck back, struck off for somewhere else. And it was enough, or almost so.

He hadn't thought about the way that, even in a new place, he took it with him. Carried it along, still that kid who shook and bit his lip and did what he was told. Anything different was on the outside, window dressing. Didn't matter if no one else saw, he knew it.

Later, he figured Peg could see it, too. That's why she didn't really want him, sort of laughed and went along. Didn't believe him.

***

Title: Traces  
Fandom: For Those Who Hunt the Wounded Down  
Rating: G  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: Five Senses: Smell  
Lyric: “I’ll Remember You,” Remy Zero

*

He hadn’t thought about that day in years, but there were nights he caught the scent of smoke and played this game with himself.

Sometimes he thought he wanted it. To have a dad, to get to know him.

Mostly, he listened to his mom try to be strong, heard the whispers from the folks in town, and figured it was for the best. This way he had good memories, the sound of his father’s voice in the dark, his old stories, flashes of moments that were happy. Knowing he was loved.

But the smell of cigarettes made him wonder.

***

Title: Whirlwinds  
Fandom: La Femme Nikita  
Rating: G  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: Five Senses: Sight  
Lyric: “Bliss,” Syntax

*

He’d been raised with wind, grown up with the threat of tornadoes and the way that everything could disappear.

He was an architect for a reason.

And when he saw her, standing there and glowing like something true, it was another whirlwind. His life, his carefully constructed history and future and the security of it all, all spinning away into darkness and things she wouldn’t say and the look in Michael’s eyes.

But he held on. He grabbed on and he closed his eyes and he held her still, for as long as he could, because that’s what you do.

***

Title: Unspoken  
Fandom: Men With Guns  
Rating: G  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: heartbeat  
Lyric: "Under Pressure," Kill Hannah

*

He is too many stories in his head and not enough words in the world.

He was movement and stillness. He is trying to forget.

He can't remember his first name, his first word.

He only needs what he holds. He sheds possessions like a skin. He elides history, dances like a ghost.

There's a moment when everything makes sense. He knows it's an end.

He has a breath, just one, with no haze between him and the noise, without the chemical buzz of unreality spinning through his veins and running down his fingers. He holds it in.

It's enough.

***

Title: Winning and Losing  
Fandom: Twitch City  
Rating: PG for language  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: carried  
Lyric: "Fashionably Uninvited," Mellowdrone

*

So he lost a bet. Big fucking deal.

He looked it up later; she'd lied. Made sense, whatever, she was only sleeping with one of them.

Losing didn't mean he vanished. People still needed catfood. Hope made a great grilled cheese.

Newbie didn't hold grudges, so when he found himself sitting in a grimy hallway, listening for something to break, he didn't think much about it.

It wasn't until he climbed onto that bed and carried Curtis kicking and screaming back into reality that he questioned why it still mattered.

Who did he want to save? Hope? Curtis? Or himself?

***

Title: Weatherbeaten  
Fandom: Flower and Garnet  
Rating: G  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: anonymity  
Lyric: "Stars and Sons," Broken Social Scene

*

Nothing felt real those first few days. Not after a year, not after five.

He kept getting lost in memories. The smell of her hair, her footsteps on the stairs. That her nose crinkled when she laughed.

He wasn't—somehow it had all gone wrong. He hadn't been watching, listening, something. And now he stood in the yard and didn't know what to do. Where to go next.

It was raining. It had been raining all week.

There was rain under his collar, rain in Flower's hair.

Every night he woke and listened to the wind-rattled sapling in the yard.

***

Title: Break  
Fandom: Frank's Cock  
Rating: R  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: rimming  
Lyric: "You're All I Have," Snow Patrol

*

He sat and watched Frank breathe. Watched his chest risefallrise, sat and thought about the first night, the way that they fit together, the feel of calloused hands hot on his skin. About opening up and letting go and their mouths tangled together.

It was fast at first, head-spinning, shoves and moans and slick sweat. After that they took their time, Frank kneeling and opening him again with fingers and tongue and muttered words that made no sense.

Neither of them cared.

Years later, he convinced himself it was love at first sight. It wasn't, but it could have been.

***

Title: Adding It Up  
Fandom: Last Night  
Rating: G  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: endless  
Lyric: "Wolf Like Me," TV on the Radio

*

He started out with a piece of paper. Or—no, it was the back of a dry cleaning receipt, left from the days when he thought he might be a doctor, a lawyer, something else.

And that was really the point, wasn't it? He wanted it all, everything he could think of, everything he'd ever heard about. So he made a list.

And the list kept growing, some sort of fungus, over the walls and around the room when he put it in the kitchen, because that was the only room he knew he didn't want to use, wouldn't need.

***

Title: Cloudbursts  
Fandom: Bliss  
Rating: G  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: rain  
Lyric: "Body Urge," The Great Fiction

*

Mike usually hoped that rain would hold off. He'd never known what to do on mornings when the sky rattled open and the mud rose and he sat around, wondering if he'd get paid for the time the weather stole from planting and haying and life in general.

It seemed so unfair, to take whole days away for something that was never his fault. And sometimes they did, and he expected he should be happy enough to get anything at all, a ceiling and sometimes a bed.

Rain poured down the last morning. He rolled over and hoped for more.

 

***

Title: Phone Tag  
Fandom: Canada RPF  
Rating: G  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: "Sometimes people need a little help. Sometimes people need to be forgiven. And sometimes they need to go to jail." (Officer Jim Kurring in "Magnolia")  
Lyric: "Music for a Nurse," Oceansize

*

Callum eventually had to quit returning his calls. It was too hard, staying sober and watching Hugh implode. Hugh expected too much, wanted things Callum wasn't ready to give.

Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it made him a bad person, maybe Trent was right and they weren't good for each other. It was a lot of maybes, and Callum was finding that he needed a bit more certainty. He needed to know that when Hugh called in the middle of the night, he'd remember what he said the next morning.

So he stopped picking up the phone. Listened to it ring.

***

Title: Moving On  
Fandom: due South  
Rating: G  
Length: 100 words  
Prompt: torn  
Lyric: "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," Death Cab for Cutie

*

Ray hadn't ever thought about what he'd do on his own. I mean, let's be honest. He always figured that when Fraser bought the farm, he'd be somewhere nearby and just as dead. Seemed a pretty safe bet.

Sitting on their bed, staring at Fraser's uniforms hanging in the wardrobe and not thinking about funeral arrangements wasn't a situation he'd figured on.

Maybe he couldn't do this, couldn't take their life apart and go on from here. Maybe he couldn't just be Ray Kowalski, after all this time he'd spent as Fraser's.

Ray wasn't strong enough for this. Maggie was.


End file.
